


Millicent

by elderbwrry



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Drunk Armitage Hux, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Force-Sensitive Armitage Hux, If You Squint - Freeform, Light Tension, M/M, Not Really Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Soft Kylo Ren, Soft Kylux, The Force, Tipsy Hux, coffee addict hux, millicent is a baby, ok tea too, referenced past relationship, space biz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderbwrry/pseuds/elderbwrry
Summary: Hux is tired. Hux is stressed. Hux just wants to be left alone.But now, there's a certain Dark Lord at his door, asking to have a play date with his cat.Hux and Kylo bond over Hux's cat and end up catching feelings, because it is fanfic after all. I wrote this because I thought they deserved some fluff. Explicit content chapter 7.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 47
Kudos: 321





	1. My Cat?

**Author's Note:**

> What is canon? Forget canon, this is before all that.

1.

Hux was about to get into his sleep clothes just as a chime of beeps sounded to inform him someone was at his door. The beeps were obviously meant to be an unobtrusive and pleasant way of informing the cabin's occupant that they had a visitor, but to Hux, the sound was alarming and almost painful as it shot through his tired mind, the signal of yet more work.

Setting down his cup – he had swapped his customary caf for chamomile in anticipation of the opportunity to sleep – he gave his cat, Millicent, a scritch on the head as he passed into his main living quarters to receive his guest. Who in the nine Corellian hells could it realistically be?

The nature of the issue would surely be sensitive. Command of a flagship had its perks, and for Hux, it was that his chambers had two entrances; one into his personal office for official business, the other directly into the living room for personal reception. However, the etiquette offered by these doors was seldom respected, even though he had made it clear that the office door was to be used unless he had given strict permission. In that case, it could be Phasma, though she had been on break for hours and would probably be sleeping.

Hux ran a hand through his hair to straighten it. He wasn't prepared to receive anyone. His hair, uniform, and cabin were all in various degrees of disarray. He sighed – he could only hope the bags under his eyes weren't too egregious.

He pressed the button to open the door.

It puffed open to reveal quite possibly the last person Hux had expected to see coming to his quarters. A misguided stormtrooper, sure. Ignorant personnel officers, perhaps. One of the senior staff members, potentially. But, “Lord Ren,” he greeted.

Ren inclined his head. “General.” His voice came out crackly, low and filtered by his mask. He cut an imposing figure, dark against the _Finalizer_ 's already gunmetal bulkheads, clad head to toe in black, monastic garb.

A second passed as Hux's brain failed to prompt any action from him.

“May I..?” Ren asked, leaning in just a little. Hux would almost think he was peering into his rooms, if the cut of the mask visor hadn't rendered that improbable.

“Of course,” Hux stepped back, gesturing for the knight to enter, hoping he came across less reluctant to do so than he really felt. Kriff, he should have just had that extra cup of caf.

Ren swept into the room, robe flapping just slightly behind him, footfalls light, despite the heavy boots he wore. He took the measure of the room now, unimpeded by the bulkhead, and Hux's skin crawled at the feeling of the knight's eyes tracking their way over his living space with that gaze of his, the one from which the regality had never quite dropped away. The door puffed shut behind him.

Ren had never been to Hux's living quarters before. He had been in his personal office twice – once when he had first arrived and again after the second time a meeting room had been destroyed, but not since. Usually, they kept their meetings to the bridge or the command office adjoining it. Why was he here? What did he want?

“Why are you here?” Hux's mouth supplied. “What do you want?”

Ren turned to face him.

A chill shot through Hux suddenly that he had spoken so harshly. Half-formed apologies rose to the surface in his mind, explaining that he was tired, that he hadn't thought. Had Ren come on orders of the Supreme Leader to kill him? To take information from his brain with his sorcerer's tricks? Some silly apology wouldn't help anything, let alone these disaster scenarios that riffled like a holoshow just behind his eyes, so he stayed silent.

“This...” Ren paused and Hux – to his own shame – held his breath. “This is an odd request, General.”

Hux frowned. A request? Odd? Ren had certainly come to him with those before, but usually the capacity was an official one “Well?” he barked. “What is it?”

Ren looked around as he spoke, scanning the room for something at ankle level. “I've been told you have a cat.”

Hux blinked. “My cat?” What was wrong with his cat? Millicent was not against First Order protocol for a General to have – actually she had been, but he had kriffing well changed it – and he didn't see what concern of the knight's she would be.

“Yes,” Ren said slowly, as if wondering what Hux could have missed. Hux bristled at the mere insinuation.

He shook his head and raised his eyebrows, inviting Ren to clarify. How typical of the mysticist to be so cryptic.

“May I see it?”

Hux eyed at him for a moment. “Her name is Millicent,” he informed Ren, disappearing through to his bedchamber, fetching his cat up into his arms, and bringing her back through to stand before Ren. He stroked her, under the guise of calming her through this disturbance, although it helped him just as much.

To his surprise, Ren actually stepped back a little.

“She won't bite,” Hux said, before smiling in satisfaction at the image. “Probably.”

The mask crackled.

_Spit it out_ , Hux thought.

“With the power of the Force, it is possible to commune with animals,” Ren said eventually, gaze fixed on the cat cradled against Hux's chest. “It requires time and meditation. The Supreme Leader has instructed that I develop this skill. On a star destroyer such as this...” how did Ren have the  _gall_ to sound disdainful about the  _Finalizer_ ?

“There's little access to them,” Hux completed the thought for him. He stroked down Millicent's spine pensively. “So you want to... commune... with my cat?”

Ren seemed to meet his eyes now, although it was hard to tell through the mask. He nodded.

Hux turned, side stepping to avoid the caf table until he reached the far end of the sofa. He scratched with one finger at Millicent's chin, focussing his attention on her as she purred and lifted her chin for him to do more. So trusting and pliant towards him... he loved her, he thought. “You won't fry her brain, will you? Or get angry with her? If you turn my cat into another destroyed boardroom, you will meet with an evacuated airlock before alpha shift.” He fixed Ren with a look.

“I will be careful with her,” Ren promised. He sounded strangely reverent, watching closely the way Hux interacted with the cat.

Hux shrugged. He didn't really see any problem with Ren...  _communing_ with his cat. It wasn't like she picked up any of Hux's great secrets – she was a cat, after all. He lifted her, hands under her front legs, to place her down on the floor. Her limbs splayed out like a long-suffering and exquisitely fluffy child who could tell that what was being done to her was beneath her dignity but was powerless to stop it. She shook her hair back into place when her paws made touch down. “Go on,” Hux said, although whether he spoke to Ren or Millicent, he knew not.

Ren bent down, extending his gloved left hand out towards the – confused looking – cat poised beneath the clear glass caf table. His forefinger and thumb formed a little heart shape which he rubbed together to attract her, but there was something forced about it.  _Fake_ , Hux's mind supplied,  _like he has only ever seen it before, never done it_ .

Could it really be true that Kylo Ren had never coaxed a cat? Hux knew some basics about the knight's past – rare and somewhat scant information, more supplemented by imagination and speculation than on an abundance of facts – such as his regal and influential heritage. It didn't seem right to him that someone from an important and presumably wealthy family had not come into contact with a pet in this way. It was almost pitiable, really.

“Perhaps it might help if you removed your helmet and gloves.” Hux offered tersely. Common sense, surely.

Ren glanced up at him. Carefully, so as not to disturb the cat, he rocked back until he was sat cross-legged, and not crouched. Soberly, he undid some clasps under his chin and removed his helmet, laying it with an insulated  _thud_ on the floor beside him. Keeping his eyes on Millicent, he pinched off the ends of his gloves and placed both of them on top of his helmet.

Hux wasn't  _transfixed_ , per se. That was the wrong word. It was just that Ren so rarely removed his mask in front of anyone – Hux had seen his face once before only – that this felt oddly intimate, religious, profane all at once. It wasn't that Hux was  _drinking in_ Ren's features – his dark on dark eyes, the smattering of moles, the pale and firm hands as he reached out again to Millicent – it was just that it was so rare to see them and so strange to recognise the humanity underneath the mystic exterior.

Actually, it wasn't any of that. He was just tired.

This time, when Ren rubbed his fingers together, attention rapt on the only-slightly-more-interested cat, Millicent deigned to approach. She sniffed his fingers, and his hand twitched back a little as her cold, wet little nose made contact with his skin. She seemed to turn back to Hux, to check that it was alright, maybe, before she took a few more steps towards Ren, unbothered, in typical cat style. She nuzzled his hand more, and a smile broke out across Ren's face at the touch.

Goodness, he looked so innocent like this...

Hux swallowed hard at the strange feeling of realising this, and then at the stranger one of realising his realisation. He stood, taking the long way around Ren and Millicent to his bedchamber, fetching his chamomile tea. It warmed his hands, a welcome distraction from the electrical misfires his brain was experiencing from fatigue.

He took a sip and collected himself before re-entering the room.

When he did, Millicent was making her way into Ren's lap, between his crossed legs, following his left hand fingers as his right hand hovered just above her back, unsure how to begin petting her. Ren looked up at him as he entered, smile still on his face – bigger, if that was possible, brighter. Hux hadn't been aware Ren even possessed those muscles. For all he knew, they were a necessary sacrifice on the mission to attain the Force.

“She's ginger,” Ren said, pointing at her. “Like you.”

Did Ren think he was funny? “Yes. What of it?” Hux sat down stiffly on his sofa.

Ren seemed to realise he had made a mistake. “Nothing.” Then, “You suit each other, I think.”

Hux snorted. They were nothing alike, he and his cat – she was all soft touches and vocal purring, whereas he had always been reserved, both professionally and personally. “Her hair gets on all my uniforms. The similarity makes it look like I have strangely catlike hair,” he said. Then, he sipped his tea quickly. Why did he say that? Kriffing hell...

Luckily, Ren didn't particularly seem to notice. “What was her name again?” he asked, finally running his hand down the length of her back, seemingly marvelling at the feel of it.

“Millicent.” Hux said, watching closely the way she was picking her way over his crossed legs.

“Millicent...” Ren murmured, massaging the ruff of her neck as she forced her face into his other hand. Scent marking him, Hux noted. She was purring loudly. How trusting she could be under the touch of a stranger.

Hux sipped at his tea again and again as he watched the two of them, on edge. At one point, she placed her front paws on his belly and stretched up to press her nose against his. He received this action graciously, and with an expression of stunned reverence, eyes wide and observant to every moment of it. Hux went to take another sip, and found his cup empty. Staring down into the leaf particles in the well of his cup, he yawned.

“Ren, I need to sleep,” he announced, putting the cup down with a little clink.

Ren faced him, surprised, his mouth in a little  _o_ and eyebrows raised. He didn't reply immediately. “Oh. Yes,” he uncrossed his legs, allowing Millicent to scamper out, before hauling himself to his feet with an “Of course, General.”

In no time, his gloves and mask had been secured again, and the hidden likeness of Kylo Ren had been re-obscured before Hux's very eyes.

Hux approached, looking the imposing figure up and down again. “You have some –” he reached out before his tired mind could stop his tired hand, veering at the last second from Ren's stomach, where he had been aiming – disastrous, terrible, what was he doing? – to Ren's arm, both places where fine, ginger hairs were scattered. His hand made contact with Ren's sleeve, a solid forearm somewhere beneath warm, thick, black fabric. “Hair,” he finished off weakly, committing to trying to brush it off in the most impersonal, patting way he could.

Ren looked down at himself, moving to brush it off as best he could. It, unfortunately, as cat hair, did not come off. “I will sort it out,” Ren told him, giving up. “Thank you, General.” He made for the door.

“Did you manage?” Hux asked as it puffed open.

Ren paused, turning back just a little in the threshold. “I'm sorry?”

“Did you manage?” Hux repeated, only a little annoyed at having to do so, instead feeling strangely scrutinised. “To commune with her?”

Ren looked taken aback. “No,” he said, shaking his head. His gaze moved to where she was sitting on the floor, grooming. “I forgot.”

“Oh,” Hux said. Silly. Of course he hadn't – it couldn't be that simple. “I see.”

“Thank you, Hux,” Ren repeated, exiting his chambers fully. Hux didn't know if he had imagined it in the puff of the doors, but he thought he heard an added, “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Millicent: :3  
> Kylo: I owe you everything
> 
> my tumblr, [@elderbwrry](https://elderbwrry.tumblr.com/).


	2. The Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They need to come to an agreement, because Hux will not suffer Ren being in his rooms at the drop of a hat. In which Hux does not know how to socialise.

2.

Over the next month, Kylo Ren showed up several more times to his door, never once dressed in anything less than his usual regalia. Every time, Hux would grudgingly stand to the side while Ren swept in, sat on the floor in the same place, removed his helmet and gloves, and waited for Millicent to greet him. It was almost ritualistic.

Hux was still wary of Ren, however. Being a man who liked to have control over things, who went to great pains to make sure he had all the information before acting on anything, to Hux the Force was an unknown, a blank integer which kept the entire operation returning as an error. His control orientation was a quirk from his engineering background, and if he was honest, also a result of anxiety, but one which he had harnessed to make him a great General.

Ren went against all that.

This same doubt of the man included Ren's interactions with Millicent.

It also meant that Hux was spending more time in his living room. He felt he had to... chaperone the two of them, so he would bring his data pad in from his office, where he would usually have worked, and tap away at reports and plans while sitting on his sofa instead of at his desk. It felt horribly domestic. He didn't want to slip into that feeling, so Hux took care, on the nights he thought Ren would come over, to stay in his uniform, an extra cup of caf zinging through his veins. So, he didn't sleep as well those nights. So what.

Hux had no idea if Ren was making any progress at 'communing' with Millicent. She was much more comfortable with him now, dashing over with a little greeting meep when he entered, rubbing her flanks over his boots. He would then sit and pet her for a little while, until eventually, she would end up settled in front of him, eyes closed in security while he meditated.

Hux felt intrusive, when Ren did this, like he was getting in the way of their connection, or their peace. This... mutual closing of eyes he and Millicent had signalled trust in each other. He thought that perhaps Ren's trust was in the Force, to be able to use it to defend himself should anything happen, but something told him it wasn't that. No, there was a bond growing between Ren and Millicent. How had they come to this in so short a time? You wouldn't find Hux doing that so easily. He realised with a pang that what he was feeling was jealousy.

 _Kriff_ , he thought, _I'm not jealous of my cat_.

Hux's last shift of the day finished. It had been a taxing day, although not unusually so, and all he wanted to do was go and crash. Dinner be damned. As he walked through the _Finalizer_ 's many decks, he allowed himself to picture it – soft sheets, Millicent's dozy weight on his stomach, sweet oblivion for however long nobody needed him to sort out their mess. Generals were supposed to be able to delegate, but he had never found that it cleared up all the issues requiring his attention to any significant extent. And if he just pushed it _all_ off onto his inferiors, the quality of work would neither be as good, nor would anyone think the better of him for it.

He arrived at his door, already feeling the tension draining from him as he keyed in the passcode. It slid open and he stepped in, already reaching up to pop open the restrictive buttons of his uniform. Maybe he should have a shower, or at least something to relax his–

The lights activated, and he jumped out of his skin, prickling from head to toe as a sharp shock shot down his spine, cold like ice. There was a black blob sitting on his floor, on the centre of his rug. He reached for his blaster, fumbling with the catch as he realised what it was.

It was Ren, looking up at him – mask off – with an amused expression at Hux's reaction.

“Kriffing hell!” Hux breathed out hard, leaning back on his wall, and scrubbing his hands over his face. Gods, his nerves were shot to hell.

“General?” Ren asked, not standing.

“What are you doing here?” Hux snapped, tension back in his shoulders.

Ren dared to look like it was obvious, lifting a hand to point at Millicent, who was happily blinking up at Hux as if nothing was wrong. “Meow,” she said. Hux wanted to hug her. He also wanted to slap Ren.

“I mean, why are you in my rooms?” he bit back an added _'you idiot'_. Only kriffing Kylo Ren, entitled Force-brat, would think that entering someone's quarters without their permission was not only fine, but also not a scary thing. “I did not let you in.”

“The door is no real barrier to me,” Ren replied. This did not help.

“Gods, Ren. Have you ever experienced an assassination attempt?” Hux's voice was rising. “I could arrange one for you, to see what you think of it when someone is unexpectedly in your quarters. I could have you locked up, thrown off my ship for this. Do not come in here without my permission! Ever!”

Ren looked pensive. Then he looked annoyed.

Hux did not regret his words.

“I'm sorry, General,” Ren ground out, sounding distinctly not sorry. He collected his paraphernalia, sparing a scratch for Millicent behind her ears, and she pushed herself up on her hind legs into the touch. “Goodbye, my friend,” he told her in a low, gentle voice that was completely separate from the way he then turned to Hux, a barely suppressed fire beneath his barely schooled expression. “We will need to make a stop at a planet which supports life of non-advanced sentience,” he informed Hux, who could feel the command beneath his words.

Hux balked. Did this mean Ren wouldn't be visiting Millicent any more? They had been getting along so well... Besides, they were nowhere near anywhere with animal life. They had passed a planet a few days ago with microbial life, but he doubted that would count, in Ren's mind. The closest with any kind of developed multicellular organism would be... Spitz. A five to seven day detour through a star cluster. They had no time to make that. “No.”

Ren's eyes darkened. “Then I'll let you speak with the Supreme Leader yourself.” He turned to go, and Hux gave in, shooting out an arm to grab Ren's elbow.

“No I...” He refused to apologise for something he was in the right on; he did not want Ren in his quarters whenever the mood struck him. “Let's make a plan. You can stay for now and...” Hux considered his schedule. “I can see you every third weekday. My shift ends early.”

Ren considered, glaring at Hux's hand on him, until Hux removed it. Then he nodded.

“Good,” Hux said. “If you are unable to come, send me a message, and I will do the same if I am indisposed. But I never want to see you in or even near my rooms unless I have given you express permission. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Ren snarled.

Hux nodded, stepping back. Millicent started weaving her way through his legs, seemingly trying to placate his anger, so he picked her up, giving her a consoling scratch, her purring spreading through his fingers comfortingly. “Here,” he said, holding her out to Ren. “I think she was enjoying your attention.”

Ren took the cat, looking somewhat awed that she was so comfortably in his arms, his animosity melting.

“If you'll excuse me, I need to...” Hux made his way towards his bedroom. “Sit anywhere.”

Closing his bedroom door – and then locking it – Hux stripped off his uniform and hung it up, before heading to the refresher to splash some water on his face. The light was harsh and the water was cold.

In the mirror, he looked terrible; under his eyes were purplish blotches, and he was abysmally pale except for the smattering of freckles over his nose. They had almost completely faded, what with his time on a ship, away from a glaring sun. The few summers he had spent on Arkanis, overcast as they were, had always left them darker, like a rash, but it had been so long since he had gone back, now...

He cracked open the bottle of vitamin supplements and downed one with water from the tap. They were technically mandated for all space-faring military personnel, but many high ranking officers forwent them, as they had access to better food and shore-leave privileges. Not so for Hux; the doctors had threatened – actually threatened him – that they would order him in for an intravenous infusion every two weeks if he did not take them. He didn't have time in his schedule for that.

Even less time now. Ren would be visiting on the third day of the week, once every five days. He had to plan, in case it interrupted his work-sleep schedule. There was nothing for it; Ren wouldn't have invoked Snoke unless this was genuinely an important part of his training.

Hux sighed and clicked off the 'fresher light.

To his chagrin, he pulled on real clothes instead of his longed for nightclothes. Trousers, button up shirt. He didn't bother doing up the collar fully.

When he went back in, he discovered that Ren had not returned to his position on the floor, instead sitting on a chair by the dining table. Millicent was on the table. Hux felt an urge to tell Ren she wasn't allowed there, but that would be a lie and a petty one at that; she owned the place, she went where she pleased.

“Can... I offer you something?” he asked stiffly instead, heading over to the small kitchenette counter on the far wall.

Ren hummed. “Do you have bean tea?”

“I have the synthesised version,” Hux replied, checking the buttons on his drinks machine. He didn't drink that kind himself.

“It'll do,” Ren said, turning his head to press against Millicent's.

Hux pressed the appropriate buttons and waited for the quietly humming machine to do its work. Millicent looked so contented, her ears pushed flat with the angle. Ren looked contented too. Seeing him liked this... it softened his edges, in Hux's mind, even though he was still angry with him. His black clothes and hair seemed to have a warm undertone to them, a dusky cinnamon like the darker ripples in Millicent's coat, nothing like of the cold one Hux usually noticed on him.

A beep from the machine pulled him out of his observations.

He carried Ren's cup over and placed it on the table a careful distance away. The knight didn't react, so Hux abandoned him for the sofa. He made himself comfortable, drawing his legs up onto the seat next to him, and resting his head on his hand on the sofa arm, all the while trying not to drop off to sleep.

“You won't be... burning the midnight caf, then, General?” Ren's voice rumbled across the room, just as Hux's head nodded down for the third or fourth time.

“Huh?” he replied, eloquently.

“Chamomile,” Ren pointed to Hux's cup.

“Hm, yes,” Hux said, blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes. “Everything is done, for now.” He paused, seeing Ren's own cup, untouched as of yet. “You?”

Now Ren reached for his tea. “No, I don't drink caf.” He took a sip, nodding in approval. “It's not good for training. Meditating.”

“Yes, it does rather the opposite.” What the hell was he doing? Discussing beverages with his rival, apparently. For something to do, he took a gulp of his tea.

“Millicent thinks you should drink less of it,” Ren said, turning back to the cat. “She doesn't like the smell.”

Hux forced himself to swallow. “Sorry?”

“She doesn't like it,” Ren repeated. “Caf.” Kriff, Hux wished he would stop _doing that_ like he was stupid.

“And she told you that, I assume?” He injected plenty of sarcasm into his tone, raising his eyebrows, but Ren's simple affirmative made him realise that, yes. That was exactly the aim of this whole exercise.

“Oh,” Hux said, clutching his tea with both hands now. “So you managed to talk to her?”

Ren nodded. “She's... pleasant. Serene.”

Said serene animal was sat in an undignified position, licking her nether regions. She looked up at the mention of her, tongue still partly out.

“I see,” Hux said.

“I will still need to visit, though,” Ren stood. “As per our agreement.” He downed his tea, throat working as he swallowed, other hand idly massaging Millicent's scapulae. Before Hux had a chance to say anything else, Ren had finished his tea, reseated his gloves, and was in the process of fixing his mask while approaching the door. As he left, he said, “I will see you next week, General.”

Hux sat facing the closed door, stunned. Millicent hopped down to the floor and made her way to the sofa, draping herself over his feet. They looked at each other. “You don't like my caf drinking, hey?”, he asked, reaching out to scratch her chin.

She meowed at him.

He smiled, just a little. It was too much to expect her to understand him. “Silly girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to my good friend, Wookiepedia, the Galactic Standard Week is only five days. Who knew?  
> Also, Spitz doesn't really exist anywhere in the Star Wars universe, I just make things up as I go.
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments and kudos, I am actively beefing up some Millicent content for you all. (◕‿◕✿) Cats solve all ills.


	3. Would You Like A Drink?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kriffing meetings... Hux could give less of a damn about listening to officers arguing like children. He has places to be - namely, his quarters, where Ren will be waiting to see his cat. Then, he can unwind, maybe have something to drink. Sounds like a good evening to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux gets tipsy.

3.

The meeting was dragging on. They had rendezvoused with the fleet, and he had established a time to meet for a general briefing – what had been learned, what had been lost, what the plan would be going forward. Now, twenty high ranking officers were sat in the _Finalizer_ 's board room, arguing over patrol grounds and resource allotments.

Hux sighed, massaging his temples. He could feel a headache coming on just behind his eyes.

“...does it, General Hux?” Someone was speaking to him, appealing to him to side with one agenda in the brewing argument. “General Hux?”

He looked up. It was Commander Vaxten, looking at him expectantly. Kriff, he had zoned out some time ago, when the veiled insults had started. What had they been talking about? Border skirmishes? It's not like it mattered anyway, Hux would end up drawing together the fleet plan himself and doling it out regardless of what these idiots wanted.

“I suggest a short break,” Hux said, making to stand. There came a groan from around the table, but a sharp look of warning quickly silenced them. “Five minutes.”

The occupants dispersed, many moving to the edge of the room to stretch their muscles, or calm down, or both, some simply turning back to their data pads as if nothing had concerned them. Hux went and stood by the tall, grand windows at the head of the room which opened out a view to the stars.

He rolled his shoulders and neck. All they had to do was get through the agenda, and then he could call a legitimate end to this debacle. More than ever, he was glad that the Supreme Leader wasn't here to see the chaos of the board room. It wasn't a personal failure, he tried to remind himself, that they were all spirited. No, it was a good thing. If only he could find a way to direct their energies...

His personal data pad buzzed, and he drew it out of his pocket. He frowned at the message.

> **Ren**
> 
> _General, are you busy?_

Kriff.

He checked the time.

Double Kriff.

He was supposed to be in his quarters right now to let Ren in to see his cat. The idea was laughable, that his rival and his pet had a play date, but he felt oddly bad that he was neither there to facilitate their meeting, nor had he remembered to notify Ren.

He quickly tapped out a reply.

> **Hux**
> 
> _ Apologies. My board meeting has overrun. _

The reply came back almost immediately.

> **Ren**
> 
> _ No problem. _
> 
> _I'll see you next week._

Hux hissed through his teeth. No, he definitely felt bad. Quite frankly, compared to this meeting, he would much rather be back in his quarters with Ren and Millicent.

> **Hux**
> 
> _ No, you can go in. Meeting should be finished soon. _

> **Ren**
> 
> _Are you sure? I'm also free the rest of this week._

> **Hux**
> 
> _However I am not. Go ahead._
> 
> _Really, I give it twenty minutes more._

> **Ren**
> 
> _ Okay.  I'll see you. _

Hux was about to slide the pad away again and return to the table when it buzzed again.

> **Ren**
> 
> _Don't get such a fright this time._

In spite of himself, Hux actually smiled. Then, he began the meeting with a renewed vigour.

Hux slammed his hand down on the control panel to close the door to his quarters. Ren was there already, as he had been told to be, sitting on the sofa this time, legs crossed, cat on his lap snoozing. Ridiculous. At least he wasn't hiding in the dark again.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Hux blew out a long breath, shrugging off his tunic and slinging it over the back of a chair before making his way over to the alcohol cabinet by way of an answer. “Would you like a drink?”

“That bad?”

“Yes, that bad. Would you like a drink?”

“No. Thank you.”

Hux eyed Ren over his shoulder. “I have plenty of alcohol, Ren. Let's see,” he shifted some of the bottles around to see the ones at the back. “Junipera, skordu, prow. Standard whiskey, if those aren't your thing?”

“You have a broad range there, General,” Ren said, and Hux could infer the implication.  _ 'Why do you have so much alcohol, Hux?' _

Hux huffed, unbuttoning the collar and top button of his black dress shirt. “Sometimes the rigours of leadership call for it.”

He poured himself a decent glass of junipera, uncaring that Ren would probably judge him for it. There was nothing wrong with a stiff drink every now and then, it wasn't unprofessional. After all, he was in his own living quarters, and he kept it all secured in an opaque cabinet if he was still on duty. He took a long draught from the glass, letting out the stress of the day with a long breath. He could practically feel the alcohol calming him already. “How come you don't drink?” he asked Ren, who was still petting Millicent, now awake, her little paws placed very properly on his chest. “Is it not the 'way of the Force'?”

“Something like that,” Ren said. “Snoke says...” he trailed off seemingly reluctant to reveal the secrets of his training. Perhaps he thought it sounded childish. Perhaps he didn't want to sound like he was blindly parroting his master.

Hux motioned for him to continue.

“Snoke says that it dulls the mind. And that you shouldn't get too caught up in the physical.” Ren's gaze wandered as he spoke, down towards where Hux was clutching his glass against his chest, on the fabric next to the two popped buttons. He was just focussing his attention inwards on his teaching, Hux thought.

“He's probably right,” Hux took another sip. All he seemed to do in front of Ren was drink, he thought. Drink, drink, drink. Was that all he really did in his quarters? He considered this thought, along with the final few millimetres of liquid at the bottom of his glass. Then, he downed that too.

He refilled his glass and walked around to sit down on the sofa, next to Ren. “I think,” he said, the anticipating the offhand bravery that alcohol lends, “that the Force is just an excuse for having a life with no fun.”

“I have fun,” Ren countered, a frown of mild offence marring his brows.

Hux looked sceptical. “Have you  _ ever _ had a drink?”

Ren didn't seem to have an answer for this.

“Really? Never?”

“Well, yes...” Ren caved. “I was too young though, so it wasn't... a full one, or anything.”

“Kriff,” Hux breathed out. He knew Force-users started their training young, but had Ren really been with Snoke that long? Had his previous masters been just as strict? What else had he been denied, forbidden from doing? Again, Hux was reminded that Ren was like a blank field in an equation he was trying to work out and fit into the programming of a great machine.

Instead of saying any of this, Hux just plonked his hand down onto Millicent's fluffy tummy to pet her.

Hux had been drinking sporadically throughout the two or so hours Ren had been in his quarters. He was currently somewhat inebriated. Inebriated. He was inebriated. He didn't know how many drinks he'd had, but he was upside down, legs thrown over the back of the sofa and up on the wall, head resting on the caf table he had tugged forward to meet the sofa, arm pressed up against Ren's leg.

Ren, for his part, seemed to have unwound about as much as he was ever going to, Hux assumed. His heavy outer layers were gone, leaving a simple, long black training shirt and leggings, his feet were up on the caf table, and he was smiling every time Hux said something undignified about a subordinate officer.

Millicent was nowhere to be seen, probably busy on the cat tower Hux had for her in his bedroom.

The mood was easy, and Hux found he quite liked it. It reminded him a little of the evenings he had spent as a Lieutenant Colonel with his colleague – actually his direct superior, a Colonel – years ago, before the rank of General had seemed more than a distant dream. He had enjoyed those times; his posting had been good, the First Order was making impressive initial strides to which he finally felt he was contributing, and the Colonel was a good man. He had liked when Hux was tipsy and smiling, and Hux had liked how he was careful with him in what they did together. Hux had enjoyed the slow, drunken kisses they'd shared on evenings like this. Gods... the man had been killed in a dogfight with the imploding New Republic shortly after Hux had surpassed him to Major General.

Hux wasn't thinking about that now.

“...and then Linden said we should just leave the sector entirely, despite the fact that it was his kriffing idea in the first place to go in,” Hux finished, waving his hands around in the air in mock frustration.

Ren laughed, knocking his head back a little in mirth. “Yes, I've met Linden. He's so oblivious about that stuff.”

Hux shook his head, trying to keep a smile off his face. “Honestly, Ren, I can't stand these people sometimes. I wish they would just get on with it when I tell them to, but its always just argument after argument. Blah, blah,” He sipped his drink – with difficulty, thanks to the ship's grav systems – and continued. “Blah. Sometimes I just want to –” he made a squeezing motion with his free hand, slapping it down on his ribs with a satisfying thunk and a snort. He closed his eyes in amusement, savouring the thought as the void rotated behind his eyelids.

When Ren replied, he seemed more thoughtful than before. “I could come with you to the next one.”

Hux's eyes snapped open to focus on him.

“You know,” Ren added, clearly nervous he had overstepped. “If you think it would help.”

“ _ You _ think it would?”

Ren nodded. “Maybe. People are a bit scared of me.”

Hux snorted again. “A  _ bit _ ? Pffffft.”

Ren smiled along with him, looking away and out towards the windows of Hux's living room, currently showing stars and two star destroyers in holding pattern. “Maybe it would... I don't know, keep them on task?”

Now it was Hux's turn to think about it. He hummed. Then, inviting another laugh, “At least they might shut up for once. All you'd have to do is look at them and twitch a finger and they'd be worried you were about to cut the blood flow to their brain or something.”

Ren shook his head, but he was still smiling. “I can't actually do that you know.”

“What? Really?”

He raised his eyebrows, looking back at Hux now. When did that happen? His hair was like a dark halo against the ceiling light. “Nope. Snoke can, though. I've seen it.”

Hux pointed a finger at him. “So what you're saying is, you can do it, but 'not yet'.”

“I suppose so.”

“Aha.” Another sip of his drink. “Besides, they don't know that.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Hux examining the ceiling and Ren... probably reaching out for something in the Force, kriff, Hux didn't know what was going on in that mind of his.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” Ren asked eventually.

“Yeah,” Hux sighed. “Later, though. I'm having a lie-in. Why?”

“The time,” Ren said, nodding at the clock.

Hux craned his neck backwards to look a the clock on the opposite wall. It was upside down, and he couldn't be bothered to really make it not-blurry to work out what it said, but it was late. “Kriff,” he said. “Are you supposed to be doing something?”

He didn't know what answer he was expecting, but he felt strangely sad when Ren told him “Yes, Snoke wants to see me early.”

“Oh,” Hux said. “Oh.” Then, “Go on, up you get.”

“What? Why?”

“'Cause I can't get up unless you move,” Hux said, giving Ren a little shove. “And you have to go. I don't want Snoke interrupting my lie-in to complain about how you overslept because of my cat.” Yes, it was just his cat that had kept Ren there. “Milly, Ren is going!” he called.

A little meep, followed by the pitter-patter of tiny paws from Hux's bedroom as Millicent ran in to see the now-standing Kylo Ren, who gathered her up into his arms and brought her up to rub their faces together. “Milly?”

“She's my cat, I call her what I want.” Hux let his legs drop to where Ren had been sitting, hauling himself into an upright sitting position and immediately having to set down his glass and steady himself. “Ooh,” he said, “Ohoohoo.” Grinning, he gestured to his own face as he said, “See what fun you're missing, Ren?”

“Your hair is a mess, Hux,” Ren deadpanned.

“Yeah, well, at least I'm drunk. What's your reason?” He smiled blearily up at Ren, who was spinning a bit. The hair he had just insulted still looked like a halo.

When he finally made it to his feet – he sank back into the sofa the first few attempts – he clapped his hands and shooed Ren towards the door, picking up the knight's helmet from the dining table, dropping the gloves and having to pick them up again off the floor. Ren's coat was back on in no time, and then the helmet which had been unceremoniously shoved into his hands, magically free of cat. Hux clapped him on the back as he opened the door.

“This was good, Ren,” he said. “You're much better drunk.”

“Hux,  _ you're _ drunk,” Ren told him, but the mask's vocal filter couldn't hide the amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, that's what I meant,” Hux nodded. “See you next week?”

“Of course,” Ren said, stepping out of his quarters, and then closing the door behind him, because apparently, Hux had forgotten that he was doing that.

Smiling, Hux span around and carefully shuffled through to his bed. He stripped off his clothes, dropped them on the floor and collapsed into bed without getting his nightclothes on. Who knew inebriation was all it took to make Kylo Ren bearable? Nice, even...

An important point which he had yet to discuss – he really should have popped it higher up the agenda – was that Kylo Ren was  _ beefy _ under those coats, and the modest shirt he was wearing certainly wasn't enough to obscure that fact. Arms, and pecs, and broad shoulders...  _ If I was Supreme Leader _ , Hux's addled mind thought,  _ I'd have him in something much more flattering _ . He giggled at the silly thought.

Millicent hopped up on the bed next to him, kneading the sheets and making a circle before she settled. She regarded Hux with wise, kind eyes. “Hey baby,” Hux said, reaching up with an arm that felt like lead to tap her on the nose. “Do you like him, then? You wanna keep him?”

Millicent laid her head on his hand.

“I see,” Hux replied.

He didn't feel himself drifting off at all, but he was asleep in no time, next to his sedate cat. The lights were still on, the depleted bottle of junipera was still on the table, and the sofa was still sunken in the formation of two occupants, rather than the usual one.

Hux woke the next morning only slightly later than his first shift would usually have started. He felt about as rested as ever – which is to say, not very – and evidently he hadn't drunk enough to get a detectable hangover.

He put his cabin back in order as his morning caf brewed, which he drank looking over his schedule for the day, and keeping Millicent entertained with his foot. He didn't bother getting into his uniform before moving his work into his office, instead wearing a comfortable silk robe, but he did hang up his tunic properly instead of leaving it slipping off the back of a dining chair and onto the floor.

The follow up briefing that he had always suspected would be necessary was already scheduled for tomorrow, a large lilac block on the screen that he knew would only grow larger as the meeting progressed. With a swipe of his hand, he moved away the next event, which dictated he was meant to be visiting and inspecting the _Ensimi_ , one of the older ships in the fleet. There was a question as to whether it needed to be retired or renovated. A pointless exercise, really, which could wait another day or two.

With a quick double tap, he opened up the briefing event to view the files and agenda. Right at the top was a list of the attendees, and his hand went to his chin as he considered what to do about Ren's proposal, half remembered and floating just at the shore of last night's conversation topics. He felt as if to let Ren on the board was to concede ground to his rival, to someone who, for all his politically brilliant heritage, knew kriff all about how the First Order command structure worked.

But, he needed a deterrent to the incessant conversation of his officers. And how was Ren meant to learn if no-one would teach him?

Quickly, before he could overthink it, he opened his keyboard, clicked on the event, and added a name under his: _Kylo Ren_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux: Oh right. The play date. The play date for Ren. The play date specifically chosen for Ren to see my cat. Ren's play date.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos, comments my lovely people, I hope you continue to enjoy the story. I don't have a specific day yet to post, partly because I'm trying to figure out when is best, mostly because I'm impulsive.


	4. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux gets re-route orders from Snoke for one of Ren's missions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, I've added plot

4.

The briefing had gone well. There had been a low hum of talk when Hux had first arrived – a hum which quickly died down as the assembled commanders realised that it was _the_ Kylo Ren striding in behind him. Ren had only spent a short time on two other ships before the _Finalizer_ , as far as Hux knew, but word about a man like that not only travelled fast around a fleet, but also with prolific, overblown detail.

Ren hadn't taken the chair Hux had provided for him, but stood off behind him at the windows, inspecting the stars and occasionally turning when something interested him. It left an ominous, uncomfortable empty place at the table which, Hux noted with appreciation, kept the others a little on edge.

Hux directed a few questions Ren's way, which he gave his opinion on in a competent, if a little clipped, way. Once, when one of the other generals had stood during a heating discussion on the distribution of trader inspection rates, Ren had approached the table and delivered what Hux was sure was some ancient nugget of wisdom touted by acolytes of his kind for centuries. It amounted to telling the General to get on with his point. The man, looking a little stunned, had sat down, and civilized conversation resumed while Hux tried his best not to look too smug.

Thus, plans were able to made with expediency, and the fleet departed exactly on-schedule, for once. Hux had actually had to restrain his joy at how perfectly everything in his timetable had lined up. Phasma had even asked him _what was wrong_ because his face was contorting with the effort of not grinning the entire first day of the journey to their Mid Rim surveillance route.

They were a few weeks out when Hux received re-route orders from the Supreme Leader.

Hux sank into his chair with a tired sigh, his evening interrupted, yet again. Phasma was sat on the other side of his desk, mirrored helmet resting in her lap. Hux never could tell if she was as put out by these kind of interruptions as he was, and her expression was giving no clues.

They were in his personal office - “sod that!” he had exclaimed at the suggestion he should head back up to his official office on the observation desk – so while Phasma had arrived promptly from her training rooms, Peavey had yet to do so, as he was still on said observation deck.

“Did you get a chance to go down to the Station when we were rendezvoused?” Hux asked, making small talk while they waited.

“No,” Phasma replied, sounding somewhat disappointed. “I had to oversee the transfer of a new stormtrooper squadron. You?”

Hux shook his head, taking a sip of his caf. “Neither.”

“That's a pity. I hear they have a fantastic leisure complex shaping up down there.”

His mouth downturned at the corners. “Sounds delightful,” he asserted. Procul Station was somewhat of a respite for First Order troops and officers alike, being well within controlled space, and since the First Order was going from strength to strength, so were the station's recreational facilities. It wasn't really Hux's preferred environment, but there was plenty of evidence to show that allowing the crew some 'r and r' was beneficial to job productivity, so Hux allowed it for them when he could.

She shrugged. “It's good to take time off. Not that you'd know.”

“Ha ha.”

“Laz was saying there are also some decent specialist mercantile places down there now,” she laced her armoured hands over her stomach. “Antique weapons dealers and the like.”

Hux raised his eyebrows. As usual, she knew what he liked. “Is that so? I'll have to remember that.”

A chime alerted them to Peavey's presence outside the office door, and Hux opened it to let the harried man in. “Apologies for the delay, General,” he nodded to Phasma.

“Well you're here now, Captain,” Hux waved his words away. “Sit.”

When Peavey was settled, Hux leaned forward in his chair, drumming his fingers on his table as he considered his next words. “We have received orders from Supreme Leader Snoke that we are to re-route the ship Core-wards.”

“Re-route?” Phasma asked after a moment.

Hux nodded. “We are to head to Vendusii Prime.”

“Sir!” Peavey exclaimed.

“It's heavily occupied space,” Phasma mused.

“That is why _we_ are being sent,” Hux confirmed.

“May I ask why?” Peavey had turned a shade redder. Only a shade, though, and Hux respected him for that, at least. Peavey had not yet been long under his command, and Hux was aware the man held... opinions about him. Whether it was his age, his parentage or just his general person that bothered the man, Hux was unsure.

“It is an escort mission for the knight,” Hux said. Snoke had been... inexact in his explanation. Purposefully so, Hux assumed.

Peavey huffed out a breath, because, of course, one thing he _did_ have in common with Hux was a dislike of being a glorified taxi service for Kylo Ren.

“What is he doing?” Peavey asked.

Hux shook his head. He didn't know.

“Will we receive any extra support?” Peavey pressed further.

“No,” Hux said, shaking his head again. “It is a stealth mission, after all.”

“Sir!” he exclaimed again, but his volume lowered at an irked quirk of Hux's eyebrow. “We are expected in the Ketium system. Our forces are experiencing pushback from local rebels and their have been skirmishes reported for weeks now. This detour will take at least that long again.”

“I am aware, Captain.” Hux said steadily.

Peavey continued, regardless of what Hux had thought was a clear warning. “Furthermore, for such a mission so deep in hostile space, we unprepared and unequipped-”

“I said, I am aware, Captain!” Hux raised his voice to a stern bark. Gods, he would rather not have to do that to a member of his own senior staff. Peavey simply had to overcome the friction in their professional relationship, but Hux would not stand back and let him get away with behaviour unbecoming of his rank and position until he did. If not, he would have to be replaced. “However, we are, in fact, equipped adequately.”

“We are the flagship,” Phasma confirmed.

“And,” Hux straightened up, “we are the only ship carrying a Dark Knight.” He fixed Peavey with a stare, challenging him to continue his outburst.

Peavey pursed his lips. “Yes, sir,” he said a second later.

“Right,” Hux said, flipping up a holoscreen from his desktop and opening a document. “We will need to come to a stop and re-chart our course. In the meantime, I want extra battle-drills run for everyone we can spare, and I am going to need an estimate on casualty numbers for when we-”

The door to his quarters puffed open, interrupting him, and a scuffle of tiny feet emerged like a lightning-fast bolt of ginger. Peavey seemed alarmed as the cat approached, rubbing herself over his polished shoes and trouser cuffs. Phasma, who had met her before, merely reached forward and gave her a scratch on the jaw. The cat meowed happily.

“Millicent...” Hux said wearily, swivelling his chair around and standing to fetch her. She meowed again as he picked her up and tucked her in the crook of his elbow. “Excuse me,” he said to Phasma and Peavey, berating Millicent as he carried her back into his living room.

Putting on a face that was adequately disapproving under the circumstances, he marched over to where Ren was sitting patiently on his sofa, as if nothing had happened. He plopped her down on the knight's lap and jabbed a finger at him. “You did that on purpose,” he mouthed, so the others wouldn't hear. “That door was locked!”

Ren, feigning innocence, cocked his head with a bewildered smile, and raised both hands in a questioning, 'what can you do?' gesture. Hux narrowed his eyes in warning as he walked away, but he would be lying if he said he didn't find it a bit funny. Maybe it was over-tiredness.

Having secured the door, Hux sat down again, regarding the document. “Now, where were we?”

“Casualty estimates,” Phasma prompted.

“Ah yes,” Hux said, finding his place. “I also want a full inventory list and expected resource usage. We should expect to come out guns blazing.”

Nearly an hour later, Hux had split up the responsibilities between Phasma, Peavey and various other non-command mech crew members, all of whom he had messaged. He showed them out of his office and wished them both speedy work.

He re-entered his living room, scowl on his face. So much for the early shift end he was supposed to be enjoying today. It was alright for Peavey, whose shift only ended in another fifteen minutes, and Phasma, who was just beginning her drills when Hux had summoned her, but for him, he was supposed to be getting the rest the doctors were telling him he needed _and_ be entertaining Kylo Ren.

Snoke's holocall had interrupted them, and Hux had to rush through to his office to answer, feeling oddly worried Snoke would disapprove of he and Ren fraternising in such a way, uniforms and garb traded for comfortable clothing and ambient music.

He dumped his caf in the sink and slapped a hand on the tea button on his drinks machine. Leaning back on the counter, he spun round to face his guest. “Do you have _any_ idea what you are supposed to be doing there?” he asked. Even to his own ears, there was a whiny, resigned note to his voice that he didn't like; he didn't expect Ren to actually tell him.

“Couldn't say,” Ren said, on cue. “Snoke will likely only tell me when I arrive.”

“Kriffing typical,” Hux swore under his breath as the machine beeped. Ah, chamomile tea.

“Hey, it's not great for me either,” Ren replied, brow scrunching in annoyance. It looked faintly ridiculous, given that he was still petting a cat who was exposing her stomach and pushing splayed paws against his face in a concerted effort to make herself the undivided object of his attention. “I don't know what techniques I should be reviewing, I don't know what I'm facing and I have no time to research or prepare for what it is I'll do. It's part of my training,” he added, more quietly.

Hux sucked his teeth, gaze shifting to a spot on the floor, trying to think of what he could do to make the situation more favourable. “I can draw up a briefing for you on Vendusii, if you would like. And Phasma can provide some shock troops.”

“I don't think that's what he wants from me,” Ren said. He sounded... small. Hux didn't like it.

“Refusing help is not noble, Ren,” he told him. “It is what gets you killed.”

Ren shrugged, focussing his attention instead on Millicent, who was looking up at him adoringly. His unkempt hair slipped in front of his eyes.

“You will have shock troops, or I will...” he shook his head, “I will have a tantrum and consider it a wasted opportunity. My troops need experience.”

Ren smiled a little. “You can't have a tantrum, Hux. That's my job.”

“I learned from the best,” Hux sipped his tea. “Look, tell me as soon as you know what to do and we will provide support from orbit.”

Ren met his eyes. “Thank you, Hux.”

Hux sipped his tea. “It's nothing,” he said. “I just want the mission over and done with without any complications.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every single time I write anything I tell myself, "don't add unnecessary elements of worldbuilding you know nothing about," and then I do it anyway.
> 
> More of a 'chill' chapter, but sometimes you need setup for later in the story. I might update the next one a bit earlier. Thanks for reading and commenting/kudoing, it means so much to me :)


	5. A 'Fancy' Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren's mission went well. It's cause for celebration, Hux thinks. Surely adding dinner to their weekly meetings won't be too much of a change?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to set this fic as fairly early in Kylo and Hux's period of knowing each other, so Hux doesn't quite have the hang of the Supremacy's location, or what Snoke would order Kylo to do just yet.

_Hux sipped his tea. “It's nothing,” he said. “I just want the mission over and done with without any complications.”_

....

5.

The complications actually hadn't been too bad. There were some, of course, like the fact that a hostile ship managed to breach deck four and then the infiltrators made it all the way to the observation deck, but that had been sorted out without any major casualties to the officer corps. Even better, Hux had taken one of them out himself, which always bolstered crew opinion.

It also seemed Hux's insistence on sending troops with Ren and an extraction shuttle had been a wise idea. Ren had been ordered to collect an artefact which he claimed was “like a well in the Force”, but it turned out to be a revered object by the local religion. The troops had helped Ren shoot his way out of the palace-temple and back onto the ship; although, from what Hux heard through Phasma, Ren had done more than his fair share of the fighting.

The artefact was a statue meant to guard the community from dark forces. Ironic, Hux thought.

Repairs were well underway, and they were on route for a secure location from which Ren could depart for the _Supremacy_. Hux had heard speculation that this location must be close to the Supreme Leader's base of operations, but after his discussions with Ren, Hux didn't believe that Snoke would have any qualms about forcing Ren to travel great distances in a cramped, hyperdrive-enabled TIE fighter.

Still, Hux was pleased, and the second Ren was back onboard, he sent a personal message through:

> **Hux**
> 
> _My quarters, tomorrow night. We're having dinner._

Hux had just finished putting his hair in order when the door chimed. Millicent meowed to alert him to it, as if he hadn't heard, but he checked himself over in the mirror once more before answering.

His hair wasn't slicked back as usual, instead falling in a loose, but still smart, natural fashion. He also wasn't wearing uniform. On any other occasion, a celebratory dinner such as this would have been a formal affair, but due to the more friendly nature of his interactions with Ren nowadays, he was instead wearing a white dress shirt under a dark crimson jumper paired with black slacks. He wished it could have been a more well matched outfit, but he didn't have much in the way of this sort of stuff; his work hours meant he had either overly casual lounging clothes or smart uniform, with no in between.

It would do.

When he opened his door, he felt oddly disappointed to see Ren in his usual helmet and dark overcoat. It couldn't be helped, he supposed, trying to reason away the feeling. Ren was... a religious man, after all, if you could call the way of the Force that. “Come in,” he said, stepping aside and and trying to keep what had been a genuine smile from crumbling.

Ren stepped inside, pulling off his gloves before Hux had even closed the door. “You... look nice,” Ren said after a moment of silence and an appraisal, hidden by the mask.

“Oh,” Hux smoothed down his jumper with a shrug. _It's nothing_ , he was supposed to say, but instead he walked over to the kitchenette counter, where the food was in a state of disassembly. “I would say the same for you, but I see you're a stickler for your 'look'.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Ren replied.

Hux turned, frowning, to find that, now Ren had taken off his coat and helmet, he was wearing normal clothes. Nice clothes. Not his usual clothes. They were still mostly monotone, but his shirt was fitted, long sleeved and drawn together at the chest and collar with a red tie of thin rope. His shoes were different – smart, slim, ankle-length – not his usual long boots. His hair was drawn back into a plait, which seemed to be... pinned together with small, silver hairpins in the shape of birds.

“Oh,” Hux said again.

Ren chuckled. “Yes, I made an effort.” Then, more quietly, “It's been... a while since I went to a fancy dinner.”

Hux stared at him. Words. Those would be good. _You also look nice_ , he should say, or even a joke, _frankly, I didn't know you owned any other clothes._ What actually came out of Hux's mouth – Hux, who had been praised for his poignant and rousing use of words both in the academy and during his career – was “Pfft, 'fancy'. The food is just ordered up from the mess hall.”

“Suits me fine,” Ren said. He bent down to greet Millicent while Hux went back to putting the food on the plates, feeling like an idiot. “Hello, my lovely. How have you been?” resounded in his ears, close and yet far away.

“Please, sit,” Hux said when he had collected himself a little, gesturing at the dining table, made up for two. Ren did as directed. “I suppose I shouldn't ask you again,” Hux regarded a bottle of Corellian wine standing on the counter, unopened, thrown in by the kitchen staff as standard for orders from the command officers. “But can I offer you a drink?”

This time, Ren looked like he was actually considering it, eyes fixed on the bottle. “I really shouldn't,” he said eventually, “you go ahead though.”

Hux withdrew two wine glasses from a high cupboard, but instead of pouring the wine he filled both with a carbonated citrus drink that had also been sent up. “No, I'll stop tempting you, shall I?”

“Don't make any promises,” Ren murmured, but Hux didn't really catch it over the clinking of the plates as he set them down. “My mother used to hate that stuff,” Ren nodded at the alcohol cabinet, where the wine was now hidden away.

Hux hummed, sipping at the drink. It was sweet and refreshing. “Well, this is probably a lot better for you,” he mused. Then, he reached out to clink it together with Ren's. “To your successful mission, Ren.”

Ren nodded, raising his glass to meet Hux's. “You should call me Kylo,” he said after they had both drunk to the toast.

Hux's eyebrows raised. First name basis, was it? Well, he would decidedly _not_ be offering Ren – Kylo – use of his own first name, but he was grateful and even pleased at the gesture. “Kylo”, he confirmed, feeling the weight of the word on his tongue. It felt... rich and deep without his other name on the end, qualifying it. He hadn't been aware a name could do that.

“So, do you know anything more about this artefact you've liberated?” Hux asked, deflecting back to a relatively safe topic instead of this turbulent and strange storm of familiarity they were straying into.

Ren had already started on the food, which was somehow more decent than it usually was in the mess hall, but when his mouth was empty, he replied. “It's powerful. Magnetic, I guess? There's something about it that draws you in, like a calm patch of water in a choppy sea.”

Hux hadn't sailed on water a day in his life, but this seemed significant. “Does that mean something special?” Idiot. He sounded like an idiot.

Luckily, Ren didn't seem to think it too odd of a question. “There's something deeper under there. I can feel it, but I don't want to disturb it before I bring it to the Supreme Leader. I'm not sure whether it's something Dark or Light.”

Hux had always been... sceptical of the Force. It wasn't that he didn't believe in it – indeed, it was hard not to when Kylo Ren was right in front of him, practically embodying the kriffing thing – it was just that he had never personally felt it. “Is it all just something you feel?”

Ren nodded. “You could too, I'm sure.”

Hux just shook his head, amused at the notion, dropping his gaze to his plate. No. If anyone during his youth had seen any evidence that he was at all Force-sensitive, his father would have packed him off to be trained in it without a second thought. As it was, he was sent to the Academy young, and he remembered both the tests and their disappointing results very clearly.

“I mean it, Hux,” Ren said. “It just takes time and some practice. No one is separate from the Force.”

“You're right,” he proclaimed jovially. “I'm leaving the military to go and study the Force on some gods-forsaken rock somewhere.” Ren looked surprised at the assertion, so Hux cocked his head in a 'really?' motion. “Because I don't at all like commanding the most powerful fleet the galaxy has ever seen.”

“Ah, I get it,” Ren said, shaking his head at the joke. “Careful, though. You'd be surprised how many Jedi panderers did just that.”

“What? Even if they have no aptitude?”

Ren lowered his fork, thinking hard about something. When he spoke, Hux realised he had been considering how much he should say. “I was raised under the New Republic,” he said gravely. “One of their primary aims was to restore the Jedi religion. They were obsessed with it, all of them.”

Hux would not be the one to tell him that the First Order were just as obsessed, only in the opposite direction.

“Every child, every parent.” There was a definite note of bitterness in his voice now. “There were even initiatives, but they were useless. Some kid had a fluke of luck, or even made up that they had done something, and they were immediately flocked to like some great find. I'm pretty sure people focussed on the fakes to the exclusion of the true potentials. They sent kids off to be trained as if it were nothing, like some offering to the great god, Luke Skywalker.

“They sent me off.” There was a great wealth of emotion underneath what Kylo was saying, and Hux became aware he had been staring at Kylo without even noticing, thoroughly encapsulated. “And once you got there, you could see the people with no power. We would train, and they would produce nothing, wondering why. But, the Force is in everyone, and nobody was ever useless enough to be sent home.”

“That's rather a roundabout way of convincing me of Force aptitude,” Hux said, when Kylo had paused. “It seems a completely backward approach. Did they have no idea it was a failed system? Nobody questioned?”

“Maybe some did,” Kylo shrugged, “but there was this weird kind of... thought purity they tried to uphold, that the Jedi were always right and the Sith were always unthinkably wrong. Like, you shouldn't even consider the existence of Jedi fallibility or the Dark Side, or you were tainted.”

Hux frowned. “Forgive me, but... is that not the same as the Dark Side's view of the Light?”

Kylo shook his head, clearing his throat. “Not really. We overcome the Light by facing it and comprehending its weakness. Most aren't tempted by it at all in the way the Jedi were tempted by the dark.”

“I see,” Hux said. “Interesting.”

“It's better, the way it's done here,” Kylo said. “Really. The testing is science, not belief. You can devote your life to something you're actually good at. Look at you,” he raised his glass towards Hux. “You never would have become the accomplished General you are today if they'd sent you off on a whim.”

Well, Hux could agree with that, and the praise warmed him. When he was a child, he had of course harboured fantasies of becoming some fantastical Force user, but Kylo was right. What use was it for him to have wasted his life in some temple somewhere if he truly wasn't attuned to the Force in that way? His life was good. He could be more than content with it. And if Kylo ever _was_ able to teach him anything about the Force, it would be the best of both worlds.

“Here's to the First Order, then,” he said. “Bringing sense to the galaxy.”

After they finished dinner, they migrated to the sofa. They had been talking about their favourite planets, comparing where they had been. It turned out that, while Hux had a list as long as his arm, Kylo had actually spent a decent amount of time on all the planets he'd visited. And really, his list was amazing; Coruscant, Chandrila, Naboo, every planet in the Hosnian system, and a host of other planets Hux knew were famed for their opulence within the New Republic. He, on the other hand, had been to a bunch of backwaters and rocky orbs in the Outer Rim or Unknown Regions, the kind with number designations rather than names, and had mostly stayed in orbit with brief surface missions.

“You must have been somewhere interesting?” Kylo prompted, sounding distinctly surprised at what Hux was telling him.

“I suppose... I went to Ashas Ree, once. That was nice,” Hux said. “The forests were fascinating.”

“I've been there! There used to be a Sith temple. Snoke sent me.”

“I thought it was a Jedi temple,” Hux frowned. He himself had gone there for the purpose of personally assassinating a scientific officer who he had become friendly with during their work, but who had defected. Or he had tried, anyway.

Kylo shook his head. “They built that over the Sith one. They were trying to use the power for the Light, but it doesn't work like that.”

For some reason, this lead Kylo back to the idea that Hux really could do something with the Force. “With training, you would have been able to feel the power there. Come on, at least try it,” he said, and he looked so animated at the idea, Hux was sure he couldn't say no.

“Kylo,” he tried, but resignation was already washing over him. “I've no clue where to start.”

“That's perfect,” Kylo said, shuffling around to face him. He took Hux's glass out of his hand and placed it down on the table before Hux could react. “You don't have any bad habits to put right. Lights, fifty percent.”

The lights dimmed, and Hux could only blink owlishly at the way Kylo was taking control of his space. His cat, his time, his rooms; and now, quite possibly, his mind. Hux was sure this is what he had wanted to avoid happening those few months ago, when he had first agreed to Ren coming to his rooms, but now that it was happening, it didn't seem to bother him so much.

“Your hands,” Kylo said, holding his hands out.

Cautiously, Hux lifted his hands and placed them in Kylo's large, warm ones. Was this just a ploy to get him killed? Hux had been a lot more comfortable around the knight for a while now; seeing that he was just a man had helped, seeing how careful he was with Millicent, hearing the way he grew quiet if their conversation ever strayed onto something in his past, or the way he grew excited when it turned to something he knew about, like the Force. But had it all been a long game? Hux could think of countless examples in history where someone taken longer to do less.

“Relax,” Kylo told him, looking directly into his eyes.

“Do you know what I'm thinking?”

“Yes,” a simple answer that struck Hux straight to his core. “Your mind is rushing. No more of that.”

Hux swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind.

“Good,” Kylo said softly. “Now, close your eyes.”

“I-”

“Hux.”

Fine. Hux closed his eyes, shuffling to make himself more comfortable, clueless as to whether Kylo had returned the favour or was instead still boring those deep brown eyes into him.

“I want you to try and sense the ship. The _Finalizer_ has a great many people on it, do you know the number?” Kylo asked.

“Seventy-nine thousand, six hundred and eighteen,” Hux replied. He knew the exact number off by heart, re-memorising it after every hostile encounter, but it usually didn't matter outside of resource planning and reports.

Kylo hummed. “They all come together to create a nexus in the Force. What can you feel?”

“Do you mean, can I feel every single person?” Hux asked incredulously. How did Kylo possibly expect this to work?

“Don't think about it so literally, Hux. Just do as I tell you. Trust me.”

Hux didn't know if he could do that, but he could hear Kylo was getting annoyed with him, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin what had otherwise been a nice evening. “I can feel...” he started, thinking about it. “The ship's engines,” he said eventually, a low vibration that he was well accustomed to feeling permeating through his body.

“And?”

“Um,” Hux thought. He tried to look past the hum of the ship's engines, past the sofa, past Kylo's hands in his. Nothing. “I'm not sure... I'm sorry.”

Kylo exhaled in frustration, and Hux felt it skim over his knuckles. “Okay, we can try... can you feel my presence?”

“I can feel where you're touching me,” Hux said flatly, beginning to become annoyed himself. What a waste of time...

“Try and feel the energy in those places.”

Hux squeezed his eyes shut tighter. As it happened, the places where they touched were tingling. Their hands, and, Hux realised with a jolt, their knees. He hadn't felt it before, but... surely that was just mindfulness, since Kylo had asked him to think about it?

“Something?” Kylo asked, sensing Hux's surprise.

“Maybe?” Hux whispered, disconcerted.

“Focus.”

They sat in silence for what felt like ages to Hux as he tried to feel something _more_. His breath evened out, shallow and slow, and he felt himself becoming more and more relaxed, his arms drooping even as he recognised he should be holding them up. This was not the time to let his guard down, he knew, but he was warm and comfortable, Kylo's voice was soporific, regularly reminding him to stay on task, and he was _tired_ – kriff, was he tired – from the recent battle and the paperwork and the general rigours of life.

He had a sense of something dark and soft enveloping him, catching him. He was floating on a sea of darker than black velvet and laid down on something cool and refreshing. He was falling into the centre of an eclipse, passing on the inside of the halo of golden light fanning out from the beautiful, deep shadow.

He is young again, sitting on a vast floor of marble, watching the flow of one of the little aqueducts which carries water to the plants all around him. There are pillars of sandstone shining all throughout the tall room, reaching up like beacons and promising the warmth of soft, sun drenched stone beneath his fingers. Everything is bright and beautiful, and rays of reflected sun cut through the fine mist from the fountain like curtains.

He is happy, but he is dumb, and there are things he does not understand. He does not mind; he lets himself sink into it, away from the great weight pressing on his bones.

He gets to his feet and steps over the tiny river into the pyramid, lit like a cathedral which ascends up into heaven itself. The sky is captured but untouchable.

All around the fountain there are blue flowers that are gentle on his fingers and smell like summer. They entwine around beams of stone and creep across the floor to climb bannisters and pillars, taking their trumpeting song wherever they go. Last year, his mother had woven some into a crown and tucked it into his hair. He twirls at the memory of how light they make him feel, swept on a wave of freedom.

There is a weeping tree dipping down from a raised platform, its long fronds thick with teardrop leaves, like the ones on the shiny badge his mother wears when she gets all dressed up. He can go in there and be secret; separate. He runs at the leaves and they wash over him like a waterfall.

Inside, it is cool and dim, but the tree has climbed its way up for years and tells him of every hand and foothold it knows in the thick limbs until he knows it intimately, like he knows the direction of the sky or the way his mother gathers him up into her arms. Lighter than air, he makes his way to the crook he likes in the top branches, making huge leaps in his anticipation.

He breaks into light again, a window meant to illuminate the great garden below, but which the tree has sectioned away just for him. This is his hidden portal out to the world, from which he can look down at the haze of the city, the speeding cars and tall lights of the glass-metal monstrosities his mother calls towers.

The air is clean, here. The sun is setting and the light is golden.

He settles down into the lap of the tree, gently curving beneath his back, and he breathes. He feels loved and held and happy. He smiles as the sun wilts below the horizon, blinking out its last flash of light for the hanging gardens of Hosnian Prime.

He sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where I thought I'd read it, but I always thought that part of the reason it was so important that Starkiller had destroyed the Hosnian system was that it was Kylo's homeworld, like a dark mirror image of Leia watching the destruction of Alderaan. When I checked, I couldn't find that anywhere. Instead, I now have this headcanon that Kylo lived there for a little while before he was sent off to train with Luke. There's a short description of the Hanging Gardens of Hosnian Prime which you can find through wookiepedia which cropped up in the Bloodline book (I've read that part on google books, but not the whole book), and, the sucker for botanical gardens that I am, I couldn't resist adding a bit of a description of them. It's a shame they were blown up.
> 
> Kylo: ok we have to hold hands now  
> Hux: ...  
> Kylo: for Force Reasons  
> Hux: ... seems fake, but okay,
> 
> thank you, everyone who's reading and interacting with this :)


	6. Intrusive Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux does a little bit of day-drinking and thinks about things. Kylo, as usual, gets the wrong end of the stick.

6.

When Hux woke up, he was in his bed, Millicent lying over one of his legs. In fuzzy disorientation, he sat up and rolled over, reaching for a clock on his bedside table, dodging a glass of water he didn't remember being there before. Kriff, it was late, but thankfully his shift didn't start for another hour or so. He felt... wonderful, actually. Rested.

He was starting up his drinks machine to make his morning caf when, with a start, he realised that the trouser cuffs Millicent was rubbing herself over were the same ones from last night. He was still in the same clothes. His shoes were gone and his collar was unbuttoned, but he could feel the lines the shirt seams had pressed into his skin. And thinking about it... he didn't remember ever actually getting to bed. He didn't remember Kylo leaving.

His brain stuttered to a halt.

“Kriff, _no_ ,” he muttered when it finally started up again. “Kriff. _Kriff!_ ”

He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to even consider for a moment that he had fallen asleep in his living room in front of Kylo Ren and then – he can't imagine anything else having happened – that Kylo had carried him to bed. He didn't doubt that Ren was strong enough to do it, but he felt so horribly embarrassed at the thought, that his brain panicked and vomited forth the image that Ren had instead levitated him there with the Force.

That was worse, somehow.

Leaving the drinks machine to its work, he stripped and redressed himself in uniform as quickly as possible, letting the rigid material and symbol of duty calm him. He popped a vitamin tablet and combed his hair back, focussing on the raking feeling of the teeth against his scalp. When he got back into the living room, his caf was ready, and he got out some food for Millicent while he downed it as quickly as the scalding heat would allow.

He still was feeling nervous and strange, stomach and mind roiling equally at the thought that Ren had seen him like that. His traitorous, wretched mind imagined the scene for a second, thought about how nice it must have been to be lifted up and gently placed down again, the care that goes into moving someone that way without waking them.

He cast it away with a swift head shake, marching over to his alcohol cabinet and pulling out the bottle of prow, quickly shooting back a small glass. He wasn't exactly a stranger to drinking first thing in the morning, after all.

He was putting it away when he considered that Ren had also just left – no note, no anything. It made him sad and he grimaced at the feeling. Then, he remembered the glass of water by the bed that hadn't been there before.

It took him less than ten seconds to knock back more prow.

Did he want to see Ren again? Did he want to talk to him? Apologise for falling asleep like that? Or... did he want to ask him to come again tonight and maybe stay, this time?

“Kriff,” he said, but it was gargled beneath another shot, ignoring what he was certain was a judging stare from Millicent.

Leaving the bottle out on the counter, Hux grabbed his cap and left to start his shift early. He wouldn't suffer the company of his own brain alone any longer.

Kylo Ren climbed out of bed and stretched, feeling his shoulders pop pleasantly. His double chambered quarters were still dark, lit only with a low red strip light that he found soothing to his eyes and which helped him get into the mood when meditating.

He padded through to his sparsely furnished main room; he had a meditation rug on the floor, two chairs around a small table littered with lightsaber parts, a few standing cabinets on which were any of his other essential items. The artefact was off in the corner, a statue depicting a spirit animal, scaly, with bared fangs and a frown on circular eyes. One of its 'paws' was raised in a warning or attacking motion. It was about waist height, of a sandy-grey, heavy stone. Hux's suggestion to send stormtroopers with him to collect it had been a good one. Levitating it out of the temple and getting it back up to the ship without covering fire would have been difficult.

His thoughts strayed onto the General, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he remembered Hux's peaceful face as he fell asleep during their attempt at meditation last night. He had found it a little insulting at first, then funny, and then finally, endearing. The man worked far too much, as he could tell by the perpetually taught set of his shoulders, his exhausted eyes, and the unerring static buzzing about his energy in the Force.

Thinking it best not to wake him, he had used the Force to encourage Hux to remain asleep as he carefully manoeuvred him back onto his chest, lifting around his back and knees and carrying him through the small quarters to his bed. Kylo never failed to be surprised at Hux's frugality; as the most senior General of the First Order and someone who – Kylo was guessing by some of the rumours he'd heard – had not had much as a child, Hux would be more than entitled to large quarters with lavish furniture. On the contrary, his biggest indulgence seemed to be Millicent, an uncharacteristically sweet little beast.

As much as Kylo had enjoyed having the man in his arms – he was so light, did the uniform really make him look that much larger? – he set him down, quickly removing his shoes and unbuttoning his collar to make him more comfortable. He thought he was probably obsessed now with the way Hux's pale eyelashes fluttered unconsciously. Then, thinking only that it would be good for the tired man to get restful sleep, Kylo had gifted him with one of his own memories, of when he was young and whisked around the galaxy with his mother, when he was still happy and unaware of the plans being made for his education. He hoped Hux had... liked it.

He also wanted to see Hux soon, although he wasn't entirely sure why. He didn't want to be thanked for what he had done, but he wanted to spend some time together again, just talking, the energies in the room flowing smoothly. He may also have wanted to take care of him again.

However, the plan was for him to depart for the _Supremacy_ within the week; he and Hux did not have another evening planned before then. Perhaps he could ask to see Millicent once more before he left? He could reason that he needed to consolidate what he had learned in terms of communing with her before he returned to his master...

He got dressed, fixed his helmet and headed out, making for the observation deck, where he expected Hux to be. When he got there, though, he could tell something was off.

Captain Peavey was telling Hux about something, but Kylo could see that Hux was not really listening, blinking blankly in a way he never would have if he really was processing what he was being told. He was rocking minutely, shifting his weight from left to right. Kylo narrowed his eyes. What was wrong?

He reached out with the Force. Because Hux had not particularly developed his Force sensitivity yet, he did not notice the bumping of energy for long enough that Kylo was able to get a read on him, his aura floaty and misaligned in the way it had been the night he had returned late from his meeting and opened up the junipera.

Hux was drunk.

Hux must have finally felt something, or realised someone was watching him, because he looked round to the entrance of the observation desk, where Kylo was standing. He bristled, turning away and motioning for Peavey to follow him as he exited to the right, making for the office there.

It seemed to Kylo like a clear indication not to follow.

Had he messed up? He found the thought that he had driven Hux away awful.

He spun round and stalked off back to his quarters, people in the corridors moving out of his way a little more forcefully than usual. He snatched up his training things – sweat clothes, his lightsaber – and marched off to one of the sparring rooms where _Hux_ had told him he was allowed to destroy the walls as much as he wanted.

Hux didn't see Kylo around for a few days after the observation deck. At all. When he tried to subtly inquire about his whereabouts through Phasma, she declared that he was busy “hogging” a training room on deck sixty.

Hux didn't make any attempt to contact him.

He threw himself into work in order to distract himself from what were quickly becoming highly intrusive thoughts about Kylo Ren. They ranged from realisations – that the dream about the gardens wasn't his own, but Kylo's – to forgetting-thoughts – that the chime at his door might be him – to... more intimate ones that left him blushing. The day on which Kylo departed for the _Supremacy_ , Hux realised that he could no longer deny; he had feelings for Kylo Ren.

_Feelings_ , he thought, _ugh_. What disgusting phrasing. But he didn't know how else to qualify them; it was complicated. The things Ren did were annoying and required paperwork. The person he was was infuriating, a high and mighty Force-user who flaunted his power effortlessly and couldn't understand why everyone else didn't just do the same. The position he occupied was threatening, both to Hux's own personal safety and his career.

But Kylo was good company. He could be funny, when inspiration struck, and he could be interesting to talk to. He could be part of Hux's image of comfort, on his sofa in sock-feet with his cat and a soothing conversation after a tiring day. Kylo could be gentle, with Millicent, with him. He could even be pretty, attractively dressed as he was at their dinner. The silver bird hairpins played on Hux's mind sometimes.

He only fully internalised this and accepted it on the observation desk, watching Kylo's small ship disappear off into the stars in a streak of hyperdrive light. Wonderful. Now he would be stuck for however long it took the Supreme Leader to send Kylo back, if that ever happened.

He wasn't going to think about that possibility.

Hux managed to avoid doing any more day drinking over Kylo, at least. He forgave himself for that one morning – he just couldn't deal with it, okay? – but the second week into Kylo's absence, on the night of their usual meeting, he finished that bottle of Corellian wine. He had hoped it would let him relax and forget about things, but he just ended up feeling lonely, cold, and a little ashamed.

No more of that.

Two days later, feeling very odd as he did it, he set himself down on the rug Kylo had occupied the times he had come to his quarters, facing the windows out into the stars. He closed his eyes and tried to focus his breathing. He tried to... _feel the ship_ like Kylo had told him. He tried to feel some kind of energy. He tried for almost an hour.

“Kriff,” he said, as nothing happened, and he gave up, turning all the lights off and flinging himself into bed. What a stupid idea that had been.

When he slept that night, he didn't dream.

The next morning, he was in his office when Lieutenant Mitaka entered, saluted, and placed a data pad on his table with a message reading that they should expect to receive Lord Kylo Ren at their current position in three days.

Hux thanked and dismissed Mitaka, before going back to his reports.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most tension you're likely to get from me in this fic. In the other ones I'm writing, I'm getting better at including more, but this one? It's just flim flam.  
> Kylo has the edgiest bedroom ever ik ik
> 
> Thanks again for reading, kudoing, commenting!


	7. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo returns to the Finalizer, and Hux greets him :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get explicit in this chapter, so read with discretion. There's a little paragraph cut just before.

7.

Kylo flicked off all the switches in the TIE fighter he had just touched down, hearing the high pitched whirr deepen and slow. Out of the screen window, he could see a greeting entourage in the hangar made up of Hux, one of the bridge lieutenants and two stormtroopers. _A useless display of ceremony_ , he thought, even as his heart skipped a beat to see the General.

He clambered his way around the cabin, snatching up his bag and leaping down to the deck, slowing his descent with the Force. He stalked forward the ten metres to meet the small group.

“Lord Ren,” Hux called out to him, voice all business and clipped politeness. “It is good to see you back.”

“Hux,” he replied shortly.

It had been weeks without them seeing each other now, but it felt longer. Kylo had spent some torpid nights half-awake, trying to keep the worst things his mind was conjuring shielded from Snoke, trying not to think about the General.

It had been useful practice. He had gotten good.

He'd also had time to think, to work out whether Hux would be open to reciprocating any of the things Kylo wanted to do to him, with him, but he hadn't quite settled on an answer yet. One night he had thought he felt something reaching out to him through the Force, but it was only for a moment before it was gone. He had hoped that he would be back soon enough that whatever he and Hux had going on wouldn't have dissipated, but seeing Hux here, now, so coldly inhabiting the position of ship's commander, that hope slipped.

“You'll need to deliver any messages or specifications from the Supreme Leader to Lieutenant Mitaka,” Hux indicated the man to his left, “within the shift cycle.”

“I've done this before, Hux,” he tried to keep his tone calculatedly bored, even with the vocal filter. Privately, he felt stung.

“Very well,” Hux said, spinning on his heel. “You are dismissed.”

The Lieutenant walked off in the direction of the lift to the command decks, but the stormtroopers both stepped forward. “Can I take your bag, sir?” one of them asked Kylo. He almost felt sorry for them every time they did this, troops reduced to porters, but Hux cut in.

“No, he can manage,” he said. “You two are also dismissed. Follow me, Lord Ren.”

With that, Hux swept off to the main exit, the stormtroopers looking somewhat lost. Kylo gave them a silent look which made them both stiffen and salute before he followed the General.

The corridors were relatively empty as they passed through them. He must have arrived during a late shift. The few people they did pass seemed particularly intimidated, and though Kylo couldn't see Hux's face from where he was, he imagined his expression must have been formidable. That didn't bode well for whatever it was Hux wanted from him.

Ren realised soon that they were heading towards the officers' quarters, and it made him pick up his pace just a little. They breezed right past the exit towards Hux's rooms, continuing down without even a pause. Eventually, they reached a door, and Hux turned to face him, saying nothing, his expression fixed into his business-scowl.

Kylo regarded him for a moment. “These are my quarters,” he observed lowly, not understanding.

“Yes, these are your quarters,” Hux replied, brow twitching in annoyance. “Open the door.”

Kylo didn't bother keying in his code, instead releasing the locking mechanism with the Force and entering. Hux followed him in. He was crossing to return his bag to his bedroom when he heard a musing hum from behind him.

“What?” he asked.

“This place is very on brand,” Hux said, running a finger over a cabinet and inspecting it for dust. He had removed his cap. “Very you, very brooding.”

“What were you expecting?” Kylo replied, not supposing Hux would give an answer. He let the bag fall to the floor by the door, unclipping his lightsaber and placing that down more gently on the cabinet next to him.

“I'm not sure,” Hux sat down on one of the chairs, squeezing his folded hands between his knees and looking expectantly at Kylo. “Real lighting. Flowers, maybe.”

Kylo considered. “Lights, white, eighty percent,” he ordered, to which they obeyed, casting the room in the same harsh light as the corridors outside.

“Lights, restore to standard,” Hux ordered back before they had even properly changed. “I prefer them this way,” he explained.

Kylo stood still for a minute, trying to figure Hux out. Eventually, he demanded, “What do you want?” The General actually seemed taken aback by his sharp tone, and, against his better judgement, Kylo tried to adjust. “It was a long flight and I'm tired. I'll get your report to you tomorrow.”

Hux's features scrunched up and he waved a hand towards him. “Don't worry about it just yet,” he pointed to Kylo's helmet. “Take that off.”

With steady movements, Kylo released the catches and eased the helmet off his head, placing it down on the cabinet with a thud, sighing as cool air reached his face again. “There.”

“Your hair is a mess,” Hux chided, but as Kylo made to run a hand roughly through it to reposition it, Hux was up on his feet and crossing the room. “Let me,” he said, picking through it with precise movements of his long, gloveless fingers. Kylo felt him flick a few strands back to the correct side of his parting.

Close up, Kylo could see the tension in Hux's features, they way he kept his eyes carefully on his task, the way his teeth worried his lips just slightly. Subconsciously, he bowed his head to give Hux better access. When Hux finally rocked back, he noticed that, although they were practically the same height, Hux had risen up onto his toes to get a better vantage point.

“Done?” Kylo asked before he thought better of it.

Hux nodded, his eyes finding their way back to Kylo's. “How was it? Snoke?” he said, but his voice was barely above a whisper with how close they were.

Kylo wasn't going to tell him the truth. He wasn't going to say that Snoke was disappointed in him, that he thought he wasn't making enough progress. He wasn't going to tell him about the new objectives he had set for him to complete over the next few months, or that he felt that the Supreme Leader was building up to some bigger, harder task. He wasn't going to tell him that, for the first time ever, it had been more difficult to be on the _Supremacy_ than on the _Finalizer._ He wasn't going to tell him, he thought at first, because it would make him seem weak and he was forbidden from letting anyone think of him that way, but he knew really that he wouldn't say anything because he didn't want Hux to have that burden of knowing. Kylo knew better than anyone that ignorance was bliss.

“Fine,” he said, managing to keep his voice from cracking, but unable to keep his gaze from dropping to Hux's shoes.

Slowly, Hux's hands reached out towards him, to his sides, and when he looked up, Hux captured his mouth in a kiss.

Kylo frowned, but returned it, leaning in and letting his hands go to the General in return, one in the hair at the nape of his neck, the other on his hip. He felt Hux start to pull back, felt the wave of doubt washing over his mind and spilling out so strong it even flipped Kylo's stomach, so he tightened his grip, turning Hux around and crowding him against the wall, taking only a moment to draw a breath before delivering a second, more firm kiss.

Hux's back hitting the wall punched a sound out of him, muffled as it was, but Kylo barely had time to consider how hard he had moved him around before Hux's arms up to the elbow were around his shoulders, drawing him in for more. Kylo allowed his lower hand to wander over Hux's stomach, keeping him pinned.

All the complicated things he had been feeling, all the repression, all of the worry about whether Hux even cared _at all_ were crashing out of him, and he had a sense it might be the same for Hux. The man's mind had never been easier to read, and Kylo reached down to rip off his gloves so he could make better contact, feel his emotions more clearly, skin to skin. Still, Hux wasn't pushing him away, and he was making little, stifled pleading noises every time their teeth clacked together, launching in for more.

When Hux had to breathe, he tipped his head back towards the ceiling, but Kylo didn't let it stop him, just trailed his lips down Hux's jaw and neck, unafraid to bite. “Kriff,” Hux breathed out, chest heaving, “not above the collar line.”

Typical of Hux to still be giving orders right now.

With a growl, Kylo gripped Hux's legs, lifting him up and positioning him to wrap them around Kylo's hips. He was light, but this time, Kylo was almost certain it was because he was using some of the Force to keep him up.

“I want your shirt off,” Kylo ground out, reaching up and undoing the tunic and shirt beneath it before Hux had a chance to properly respond.

“That's rich from you,” Hux's hands were at his shoulders, shoving at the fabric. “You've still got your kriffing – cloak on.”

Hux was still tugging at Kylo's collar zip when his chest was revealed, pale but flushed, and Kylo dived in, thrilled to finally have a place he could leave marks without fear of souring Hux's mood.

He could also now see that Hux wore a military identification strip with a designation on it around a chain on his neck. It wasn't his own, Kylo knew, as Generals did not have to wear them unless they were going into a ground site of active conflict, but he didn't care to read it, instead just brushing it out of the way with a satisfying jangle to get better access to his chest.

Hux had succeeded in getting Kylo's zip most of the way down, but he would never be able to reach the bottom of it without them disentangling. So he gave up, changed tack, leaning back to enjoy the feel of Kylo's mouth and hands all over him. “Millicent misses you,” he said, breathlessly.

Kylo looked up at him from his clavicle. “Mm?”

Hux nodded, bucking when Kylo ran a thumb over his nipple. “Yes she– she waits at the door the nights you're meant to come by. She's lonely, I can tell, she-” he bucked again, “she blames me for you being away for so long.”

Kylo licked over the spot he had just made a bite mark on, red, with a few little teeth indentations. “Does she really?” It occurred to Kylo that Hux was actually talking about himself, and he found it spurring him on.

Hux met his eyes, cheeks flushed and mouth hanging open invitingly. “Yes.”

“Are you on duty, General?” Kylo asked, his voice gravely.

“No, never was,” Hux spat out very fast.

Kylo's hands drifted to the button on Hux's trousers, and without warning, Hux slid down the wall a foot or two, garnering a cry from both of them as Hux's hands slammed down on Kylo's shoulders, and Kylo's hands went straight to Hux's ass to catch him. It seemed Hux hadn't held himself up well enough, and Kylo had forgotten to focus on keeping him secure.

“Do you have a bed?” Hux asked with a nervous laugh, glancing at the door next to them.

“Come,” Kylo said setting Hux back onto his feet gently and leading him through to the other room, both shrugging off the clothes on their upper halves as they went, adding to the already embarrassingly large nest of clothes slung around the place – Kylo had never found closets or even proper furniture particularly inspiring.

“Kriff, your bed is on the floor?” Hux asked as he sat down, patting the sheets. They weren't as soft as his, Kylo knew, but Hux didn't seem to mind. “Actually, I'm not surprised.”

“Shoes off,” he instructed as he removed his own, forgoing an explanation for the furniture, and Hux obeyed, dragging his off artlessly.

“Can't you just magic them off me?” Hux grumbled as he sat back again, opening his legs invitingly, but all he had to say when Kylo used the Force to pop open the buttons on his trousers was a surprised little “Oh”.

Crawling between his legs, Kylo kissed him again as he worked Hux's trousers down completely. Hux hissed when Kylo touched him, lying back and dragging him down on top of him.

“We need-” Hux began, digging into one of his pockets and drawing out plain, discreet bottle of lube and holding it out to Kylo.

It took a second, but Kylo eventually realised what this meant; Hux had come prepared. “You or me?” he asked with a lascivious grin.

“Oh, kriff, definitely me,” Hux said.

Kylo coated his fingers and reached down to gently work Hux open, starting with one finger but speeding up each time Hux ordered “More!”

In no time, Kylo was freeing himself and lining up to slide in, Hux's fingernails scrabbling at the loops on his trousers to try to pull him forward faster, his legs wrapping around his hips yet again.

When Kylo bottomed out, he nestled his mouth into the crook of Hux's neck, feeling the delightful pressure around him, the rumble of Hux's gasp of “Gods!” and the empathetic rush he felt from him through the Force, like the crackle just before lightning.

He began to move, and in the low red light punctuated only by the yellowish beams of the slitted, facsimile window above the bed, Hux's features were thrown into practically artistic relief, a portrait of pleasure and hunger. Kylo changed angle a little, and the contortion of Hux's features as he exclaimed, “Yes, there!” had him pounding in harder in the same place. “Kylo...”

“Hux,” he replied, leaning back in for a quick kiss. Hux's hands were everywhere – his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his back, his arms – and he repositioned his weight onto only one arm so he could work Hux's cock with the other, getting lost in the storm of sensations and sights and energies around them. Suddenly, he felt himself getting close, a curling in his groin like a spring wound too tight.

Pulling out, he shimmied down the bed, ignoring Hux's complaint of, “Get back in me!”, a complaint which quickly petered out as he took Hux into his mouth. He couldn't get him all the way in, but Hux didn't seem to mind, groaning out his name again and twining his hands into his hair, directing him down as far as he could go before letting him bob up.

With one hand, he kept Hux's hips in place, and with the other, he stroked his own cock, coming with a groan. Hux took another minute or so, praising Kylo's work until he also came with a cry through gritted teeth, releasing Kylo's head even as he swallowed hard.

While Hux was still coming down, Kylo made his way up next to him, revelling in the rise and fall of Hux's pleasantly more bruised chest. He had done that to him. He had done all of that to him. He wanted to do it to him again.

Once they had both recovered, Hux patted his chest in invitation, and Kylo rolled over, resting his head on Hux's shoulder and placing his hand where he could thumb over Hux's ribs. “So you've done that before, I see.”

Kylo hummed out a yes.

“I thought you weren't allowed any fun?”

Kylo gave an amused huff. “I cared less for the rules of my previous masters. And besides, this is different. As long as there are no children resulting from it, I can do-”

“I don't need to go and get my contraception, do I?” Hux teased, hand fumbling around for the one Kylo had folded between them.

“No.”

“Maybe we should have checked before? Who knows what could happen-”

“Shut up,” Kylo poked his side. “I'm clean and so are you or the medical staff would know. They have a sixth sense for that stuff.”

“Hmm,” Hux agreed, examining the ceiling. “Nobody is jumping at the chance to bed the poor old General.”  
“Liar. Here I am, you just work too much to notice anyone else.”

“You're right,” he joked. “I'll make sure to schedule everyone in some time around paperwork and reports.”

“So we're doing this again?” Kylo angled his head up to watch Hux's expression.

Hux's throat bobbed and he frowned, but his voice was gentle as he said, “Millicent really does miss you, you know. I'm not dealing with a lovesick cat, you have to keep coming over.”

It was nagging Kylo that Hux was deflecting away from expressing any affection. “And you?”

Hux froze for a moment, but when finally his eyes flicked back towards the ceiling, he whispered, “I missed you, too.”

“Good,” Kylo said, leaning up to kiss him, before dragging the blanket at the bottom of the bed up and over them, nestling in. He'd be damned if he was going to let Hux get away without a full night's sleep after that, right next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, my humble offering. These kinds of scenes still aren't my strong point, but I hope it's still okay.
> 
> One more chapter left, which I'll be uploading shortly. Thank you for sticking with this :)


	8. That Was The Thing!

8.

Kylo angled the end of the toy up, trailing the end of it around in an infinity pattern. Millicent scampered around after it, trying to grab the neon-coral squiggly fluff worm to no avail, missing it just as she caught it. Kylo was smiling, making it jump to send the cat twisting around like a mad thing to get it. Looking on, Hux was glad he had bought the thing, even if it hadn't got much use in the past few years since he picked it up.

Kylo noticed Hux watching from the bedroom door and let it hang loosely, letting his eyes slip over the v of exposed chest Hux's robe afforded him.

“You two are cute,” Hux said, leaning on the door frame.

Kylo looked back to Millicent, who was rolled over on her back and using her back paws to extinguish the life capability of the fluff worm. “Come be cute with us,” he replied, patting the sofa next to him.

Hux padded over and sank down onto the cushions, leaning over onto Kylo's arm and putting his head on his shoulder. In the past few weeks, their relationship – Hux was relatively sure that's what it was, now – had been going fine. They hadn't managed to keep things to one night a week, of course, but it hadn't affected their work much; Hux was getting the best sleep of his life and Kylo... well, Hux had no idea what Kylo did most of the time other than meditate, but he didn't seem bothered by the extra time they were taking up now.

Hux was becoming used to the idea that the Ren in meetings and on deck was different from Kylo. The mask worked like a switch on both of them; Ren would still trash boardrooms and be sent to Hux's office, where they would argue, but when Kylo stepped into his quarters and took off his mask, they could forget about it. It was great for keeping their work and personal lives separate, and one evening while his head was laid back in Hux's lap, he had gazed up and confessed, “I like that I can be vulnerable with you like this.” The night had progressed very fast from there.

Hux hummed at the warmth seeping through Kylo's sleeve where his cheek rested. Kylo was like a personal heater. On a chilly Star Destroyer which was permanently losing heat to the vacuum of space, it was delightful. Hux snuggled in a bit closer, and Kylo's head tilted down on top of his.

Hux patted his thigh. “Millicent,” he called.

The cat looked up, straining to see him over her shoulder from the position she was in. Her fur was out of place. She was suitably distracted from the fluff worm for long enough that she forgot about it, rolling to her feet and analysing the sofa for a suitable place to jump up.

“Oof, hello,” Kylo said, as she jumped onto him.

She meowed, settling so she was lying over both of them, butt end on Kylo.

“I'm flattered,” he told her.

Hux chuckled. “She trusts you.”

“Right. I'll guard her butt with my life.”

They petted her for a while, and Hux soaked in the warmth, the calm, the closeness. Millicent was making chirruping noises on every exhale. She though she was the most spoiled cat in the galaxy, Hux thought. He could feel himself slipping off to sleep, but he didn't mind, safe in the knowledge that if he did, Kylo would carry him through to the bedroom, and would probably still be there the next morning this time. There was one more thing he wanted to ask, though.

“What is that dream you always show me?” he asked of Kylo, allowing their fingers to brush together through Millicent's fur.

“The dream?” Kylo asked, obtuse as ever.

“The garden.”

“Oh,” he said, staying quiet for a bit.

“You don't... have to tell me,” Hux assured him, although he was sure Kylo could feel how burningly he wanted to know. The garden had appeared several more times in his dreams recently, a welcome departure from what otherwise would have been boring dreams about the ship or nightmares from the various bad experiences in his life.

“No, I...” Kylo said, shifting. “I spent some time on Hosnian Prime in my youth while they were planning the new capital, and I'd go to the hanging gardens there. My mother... liked them.”

“Oh.” Hux twined the fingers of their hand together. He knew how hard Kylo's childhood memories were for him. Mostly, they both tried to stay out of each others' pasts for this reason.

“There weren't so many people there compared to the city. It was less difficult to be relaxed.”

Hux hummed. Kylo had also mentioned how difficult it was to concentrate sometimes, with all the people around him, all the micro-disturbances in the Force. It had explained some of the more confusing actions Hux had seen him take before.

“I think it's only gotten worse since the Republic moved there,” he said.

“Well you don't have to go back,” Hux told him.

“Yeah,” Kylo agreed, but there was a note of sadness to his voice.

Hux had heard that the hanging gardens there were beautiful, revered as the most wonderful thing for sectors around. He had always considered them a hold over from the Old Republic's decadence and pomp, but now he had _seen_ them...

And he really had seen them; the dreams were so clear and precise, and he could _smell_ the pollen in the air and the water on the hot stone. Now that he knew all that, he didn't doubt that such a garden would be a beautiful place to spend so much time.

“I would build you a new garden,” Hux said quietly. “A botanical station orbiting one of the marble gas supergiants in the Mid Rim.”

“That's a grand plan, Hux,” Kylo's voice rumbled, calm and deep through him.

Hux leaned back to look at him, detaching his hand from Kylo's in order to cup his jaw. “We could have big, shady trees and berry bushes. We could time the hydroponics to have them bear fruit all year.”

“You're romantic,” Kylo said, leaning in and kissing him.

Hux's stomach still flipped when he did that. When Kylo had returned from the _Supremacy_ , Hux had decided to make the first move, thinking Kylo was too oblivious or caught up in his own head to do it, but now Kylo took initiative whenever the mood struck him, and it was intoxicating. Hux deepened the kiss.

“Come on,” he broke off to say eventually, pupils blown, eyes flicking to Kylo's lips. “Let's go to bed.”

They stood up, and Millicent – who had jumped off them the moment they had started paying each other more attention than they were paying her – trotted along at their heels.

They collapsed on the bed, already joined at the mouth again, insatiable as Hux hadn't been since he was young, his hands already rucking up the hem of the sweater Kylo was wearing and trailing his fingers over toned muscles and heated skin.

“What do you want to do?” Kylo gasped out, pulling the sweater off completely and diving back down to Hux's clavicle.

“You can ride me,” Hux told him, scrabbling around in the bedside drawer over his shoulder without even looking. “I want to see-”

“Meow,” Millicent complained, sitting just inside the door and regarding them, unimpressed.

They both drew to a halt, focus captured by the cat.

Hux felt bad; she looked very put together, poised feet carefully placed together in front of her, tail curled around. Compared to them, she was the real adult. They had been... interrupting her usual sleeping patterns with their nocturnal activities. He felt ashamed.

Kylo, who had obviously disregarded her disapproval, was already back to working his way down Hux's body, trying to mark out every small section with a kiss, but Hux slapped his shoulder lightly. “Stop, I'm not doing it with my cat... judging us.”

Kylo looked up at him from somewhere around his navel, sighing exasperatedly. His hair was already a mess, though Hux didn't remember having messed it up just yet. “She's just a cat, Hux.”

“No.”

Kylo sighed again. Then, he reached a hand out towards Millicent, who looked at it with mild interest. “Millicent,” he commanded, “go and sit in the living room.”

Millicent didn't do anything for a moment, too focussed on Kylo's extended hand. A second later, she stood up, turned and meandered back to the living room. When Hux turned back to Kylo, he was grinning expectantly.

“What?”

He frowned. “That was it. That was the thing! I communed with her!”

“You did that already,” Hux reminded him. “You said she didn't like my caf.”

“Yes, but this is different,” Kylo argued, not letting Hux's scepticism dampen his excitement. “I instructed her to do something and she listened.”

“How do you know? She might have done that just because she wanted to.”

“No, I did it.”

“She's a cat.”

“Hux.”

“Really, Kylo, I don't know how you expect to convince me that- hnnggh don't stop, that's-”

“I'll show you convincing...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! I really enjoyed writing this, even if it is full of half-realised concepts and is massively self-indulgent. I've written another Kylux fic which hopefully has a bit more of a consistent concept and imagery, if you're interested.  
> Thanks everyone who read, commented, kudoed!


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